Going Home
by slaaneshissexxy
Summary: The 5 times Sybil came back to Downton. And the one time she truly came home.
1. Malton

They looked like they had been through the worst Hell on Earth. Sybil and Gwen snuck out so Gwen could attend a job interview. Gwen wanted to be a secretary and Sybil had helped by looking for advertisements on the paper.

That day, Sybil borrowed the cart on the pretext of visiting an old lady in Malton where the interview was to take place. She had refused to have their chauffeur Tom Branson drive her. She had not known the young man well and feared he could not keep the secret from her father.

The horse cast a shoe and they were forced to walk the rest of the way back. None of the people they had met on the road were of much help. Then the cart got stuck on a muddy rut and the girls fell in a puddle trying to get the damned thing out. They looked like bog people. The sun had almost set by the time they got to Downton.

"Pardon me for saying so, Milady, but you should have asked me to drive you. It's my job to pick you up and drop you off places. And it would have been less of a bother." Branson told her later.

"I'm sorry for my deceit, Mr. Branson, but I couldn't take the chance you would tell my parents of my whereabouts. Proper ladies don't exactly do what I've just done. No harm, no foul."

"You could have had an accident!" He raised his voice, which took her aback. "The cart could have overturned! You could have been set on by highwaymen! If anything happened to you, I... _we... _wouldn't know what to do."

His eyes spoke of concern, but Sybil had to stand her ground. "I am almost a grown woman! I can take care of myself. That had been the furthest I had been away from home and I came back. You are not paid to care!"

"No, Milady. That you get for free." He gave a slight bow and walked off back to the garage.

Sybil realized how unkind her words had been. She, who believed her father's way of treating the servants with decency, had acted like a brat. But no servant had talked to her like that before! He looked at her straight in the eye and spoke to her as a person instead of a Lady that needed to be kowtowed to.

He misjudged the man. She will not make that mistake again.


	2. London

The London season had ended and Sybil's coming-out had been a success. There were plenty of offers from young men of impeccable pedigree and she got to live it up in Europe's greatest city. But she longed for Downton.

Sybil actually preferred London's rustle and bustle over Downton and the country's quiet, but there is where her friends are. Others would laugh at how she thought servants could ever be called friends but that is how she saw them. Carson the butler and Mrs. Hughes the housekeeper had practically raised her and her sisters. William and Thomas the footmen, and Gwen and Anna and the other housemaids were village boys and girls she had grown up with.

Then there was Branson. She had grown fond of the Irishman in the 2 years since he started working for her family. He shared her political views and didn't dissuade her from having views in the first place. She admired his optimism for a better future for Ireland and his general concern for the welfare of them less fortunate.

Sybil's grandmother The Dowager Countess had noticed their connection and deemed it inappropriate. Treat the servants decently but keep them at arms length is how its always been.

Lady Grantham answered back, "Branson and that Gwen girl are Sybil's creatures, as Anna is Mary's, Carson and Bates are Robert's and O'Brien is mine."

"Your household is divided. Who will I side with if war erupts among you?", The Dowager dryly remarked.

Sybil made her way to the garage where Branson was tinkering away at an engine. She had gotten used to the smell of motor oil, the heat of engine blocks, the roar of motors and the smooth and hard texture of a car chassis.

"Welcome home, Milady", he said. "I trust your season was a success?"

"It was. I think so. Better than Edith's, Mary had said."

"Are there... suitors in your future?"

Sybil blushed at his question, so direct and informal. So like him. "Lots. I don't like any of them yet. Even if I did, Mama and Papa always saw something wrong with them. Lord Crosby was too Catholic. Sir Martin Tours was too lowly. Lord Townsend is just stupid."

"I'm pleased" then he quickly added "That you didn't jump into any arrangement so quickly. Marriage is a serious business best done only once."

"What of you?" She decided to be direct as well. "Did you leave a trail of broken hearts back in Ireland? Are there girls back there looking out into the Irish Sea, hoping that they would have the honor of being the first to see you when you come back?" He nodded a no. "How about here in England? In York?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Is she... someone I know? Does she live close by?"

"Closer than you think." His eyes met hers.

Sybil felt beads of sweat run down her back. None of the cars were running and the garage door open. _Why was it so hot in here?, _she thought. "I have to go freshen up. I'll leave you to your work."

"Thank you for visiting. Good evening, Milady."

Sybil entered the house through the patio door and went to her room. She lay flat n her back in bed.

"It truly is good to be home."


	3. York

I was hanging on for dear life.

Lady Edith was swerving all over the deserted country road. She enjoyed the speed and the thrill of being behind the wheel. I could beg her to stop and let me off but I did not have the heart. She looks so happy. So free. And I must admit she has nerves of steel. We've almost crashed the Renault a dozen times but Lady Edith always managed some last minute maneuvers that saved our hides. Her cool head is an asset. We may be ready for the main roads soon. But she needs to moderate her excitement. I had been silently praying the Lord's Prayer when she spoke up.

"I can't wait for tomorrow. Sybil will be in for a surprise."

Lady Sybil. My God.

For a moment I had forgotten my terror of certain doom when Lady Edith spoke her sister's name.

What was I thinking? Why didn't I take her advice? I should have kept it in!

"Yes, milady. Your sister will be quite surprised."

Not as surprised as I made her two months ago.

Lady Sybil and me had become closer since the war began. Gwen left service to become a secretary so it was just us. Lady Sybil would drop by the garage and tell me about all the happenings in the big house, about local and international politics, something she read in a book or the paper that morning or read to me Gwen's letters.

When we are in the garage together, I was just a lad named Tom and she was just a lass named Sybil.

"Where do you think you'll be in five years, Branson?"

"Working here, I guess. What about you, milady?"

"Also here. Fine society ladies aren't supposed to be anywhere unless their fathers or husbands point them where to go. Gwen got to leave. She chose to leave. It must be exciting living in the city."

"Maybe we can visit her. Gwen must be lonely living alone. She'll be glad to see us."

"_We_? You mean you and I, alone?"

"Well someone has to be my chaperone and protect my virtue."

She giggled and swatted my shoulder. We never did get to visit Gwen. Our schedules never permitted it. Then gasoline rationing began a month later so unnecessary trips had to be canceled. Perhaps, when the war is over.

I had referred to me and her in the plural. It had been "us" and "we" for almost two years now.

A week after that conversation, she received a letter. Her friend Tom Belassis had been killed. She was inconsolable. She went on about how useless she felt, not contributing to the war effort. I was no help. I had no answers to give her.

She turned to her cousin Isobel, and learned there was a spot open at St. Andrew's Nursing College for a crash course in nursing. She would be gone for two months.

Weeks before she left, she was taught to do chores. Ladies aren't supposed to do chores, so it was done in secret. Anna had taught her how to strip a bed. Daisy taught her to build a fire and scrub a floor. The new girl Ethel taught her how to dust and sweep but Anna said she was doing it wrong. Mrs. Patmore taught her basic recipes like boiling eggs, chopping onions and making tea. l thought all English learned to make tea the moment they left the nursery.

Then she baked a cake for practice. She wanted to surprise her mother. She was so proud. If not for her manners and speech, anyone would think her just a common Yorkshire girl, ready to enter service.

It was the best chocolate cake I'd ever tasted. I loved it. I loved her.

_I loved her._

What? How? What? Three excellent questions I don't know the answers to.

I ran back to my cottage and... prayed. Prayed for these feelings to go away. It wouldn't. I've had them for years now. Ever since she came back from her season. Ever since Ripon. Ever since I met her!

That damned cake! I imagined her baking for her husband. Some lord or duke or earl or whatever. He'd love it. Any man would love Sybil's cake or whatever else she made. And I'd still be in this shack drinking cold tea and wonder if I missed my chance at something beautiful!

For the first time in my life, I saw my future. Tom and Sybil Branson. That sounded nice. That sounded right. I never thought I would make a good husband and father until I imagined life with Sybil. A life without her is no life at all. I'm going to propose. We don't need to marry immediately. We can wait after the war. I will work hard for her. I will protect her from the gossip and slanders. I'll let her parents treat me like scum. If only she will have me.

If not, then I'll just quit. I won't need a reference. I'll be a monk because that girl has ruined me for women.

I proposed right there at the archway. I said everything needed to be said. How I've denied what I felt for years. How I would make something of myself. How I would devote every waking minute to her happiness.

_Bet on me_. That is the dumbest thing I've said in my life.

She was flattered. More words, then awkward silence.

I prepared to take my leave. Time to write my notice. She took my bicep when I walked past her.

"No, don't do that!"

"I must. They won't let me stay once they've heard what I've said."

"They won't hear. Not from me."

We stared at each other for what seemed like hours. She's a small girl but I couldn't wrench my arm away. I could feel her thumb doing circles on my elbow.

When did she become so strong? When did I become so weak?

She didn't say yes. She didn't say no. I gave my word and didn't leave. That was two months ago.

Tomorrow Lady Sybil returns. Had she changed? Have I? Time to find out.

Here we are. Here we go.

* * *

My life changed the moment I met Tom Branson. He asked me whether I liked my new frock. Initially I found it invasive. Don't talk about my clothes! Then I found out he did it with the rest of my family. He liked making smalltalk but everyone's reluctant to open themselves up to this cheery (or cheeky) Irishman. I became comfortable in his presence, despite the rough start to our friendship.

Then he gave me pamphlets about giving women the vote. A man who believed in the same cause as I! How fortunate! Still, I was reluctant to trust this man. I had heard and read of handsome servants with easy smiles and breezy charms who seduced young girls then left them pregnant and destitute, so I kept him at arms length.

Then came the night of Gwen and I's disastrous trip to Malton. We snuck out so she can get to a job interview. Our horse Dragon went lame on the way back and we had to walk for miles to get home. I expected Branson to laugh at us but instead he was angry. We could have been hurt for keeping him in the dark. I told him no one pays him to care.

"No, milady, that you get for free."

My words were unfair to the man. I vowed I would learn my lesson.

I didn't.

Months later I was injured in a scuffle during the voting count in Ripon. I did not listen to Branson when he said we should leave. He was almost sacked for my selfishness. I had never felt more shamed. I bore my father's insults and stood up the best I could for our chauffeur. No matter how harsh the words exchanged I knew Papa would forgive me. I doubted the same could be said about Branson. My need to be seen as grown cost a good man his job and his friendship.

I had not seen him all day the next day. I went to the garage before dinner, afraid it would be empty.

He was there. He was sitting on the workbench with his back turned. I called to him.

He faced me. He looked disheveled. His eyes were bloodshot. He had not slept since last night.

He rose and walked towards me. Now comes the moment of reckoning. I braced myself for his insults, his regret for befriending me, the table pounding red-faced fury Granny always said the Irish were known for.

His walk gained speed. I saw the deep scowl on his face. Was he going to strike me? No.

He embraced me. His body made contact with mine with such force. I had thought I would suffocate but it was the opposite. I felt safe and warm in his arms. Like I belonged there. Like I was home.

This giant of a man was sobbing his heart out. He had this look on his face. A combination of sorrow and relief. Like a little boy reunited with his mother after being momentarily lost in the marketplace.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's all right."

He ran his thumb down the corner of my right eye. "Don't shed a tear. Not for me. Never for me."

He embraced me again. His strong arms pressed against my back. I returned his embrace by digging my fingers in his back. I will not let him go. He fought for me. Now I fight for him.

I came back after dinner. We were laughing like old friends again.

Then the war broke out. Many of the lads working in Downton and the village were called up and never came back. Others literally left pieces of themselves back on the continent and came back broken men. I asked Branson where he thought he would be in five years. He said he would still be here. I prayed that would be true.

I decided to enroll in nursing college after one too many of my friends died. I learned basic domestic skills so I can take care of myself. He was always there watching me, beaming with pride.

Tom Branson changed my life the morning we arrived in York. He proposed marriage to me. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

All the doubts that I had of him flooded back. Is this his plan all along? But he told me he knew my parents would never approve but that they would come around eventually. He did not want to live off my family's money. He wanted just me and only me. If it meant running away and starting a new life somewhere else, he would do that if it meant I would go with him.

What was I supposed to say? Any girl would be lucky to marry this strong, beautiful child-man. Why was I worthy? But a life outside Downton was so tempting a bait. Living somewhere else where class did not exist. Where others judge you on what you can do and not what you are. You know me too well, Tom Branson.

Before I could give a satisfactory answer, he said he would quit and tried to walk away. I stopped him in spate and looked him in the eye. Papa once said the best tactic in business is to walk away.

There was no deception n those eyes. Only sadness and embarrassment. He really is being in earnest. I asked him not to leave. Not until I gave him an answer. That was two months ago.

Yesterday my sister Edith surprised me by picking me up from my dormitory and driving me back to Downton. Branson carried my bags. We both had that same look of foreboding when we walked through the archway where our lives changed two months ago.

He refused to meet my eyes on the trip back or when we got home. My day at the village hospital started today.

For the first time I put on my gray uniform and matching white apron and bandana, with the red cross patch in my left arm. God knows how long this war will last and this is how people will remember me for years to come.

Will you look at me now, Tom Branson? Do you still want me as wife when I'm not in my finery and jewels? When I'm exhausted all the time from work to tend to your needs.

"Now, more than ever."

Damn.


	4. Gretna Green

I was to help Lady Mary get ready for bed when she told me to get the house keys from Mrs. Hughes.

"Just tell her the keys were switched."

"Which key do you need, milady?"

"Sybil's room."

Lady Sybil said she wasn't well and turned in early. Lady Mary said she wasn't answering her door.

We got there too late, it seemed.

A letter on the mantle piece. Somehow Lady Mary didn't seem surprised.

I still can't believe it.

Branson and Lady Sybil.

_Eloped_...

And I was too wrapped up in my own drama to notice.

What with Mr. Bates..._John..._finally getting his job back, that business with the Canadian fellow, the house going back to normal and Ethel being up the duff, no one was paying attention.

What is their story? How did it start? How did they end up together?

Why did they run?

And all those times they were alone together! Of course something was bound to happen! The way Lady Sybil always went to the garage herself when someone ordered for the motor, even when she wasn't included.

I knew they and Gwen were tight knit and always getting into some mischief, but I just assumed Branson fancied Gwen.

My god, did they do something..._bad_? Is that why Lady Sybil ran off with him? Is she in trouble?

I swear I will hurt Branson if that's the case. He'll feel my wrath, he will!

So here we are. Me, Lady Mary with Lady Edith behind the wheel, on a drive in the middle of the night for watching out for two fugitives. I must admit this is the most exciting thing happen since the war ended.

Have to keep an eye out, but I'm tired. My eyes are sleepy. If I close my eyes for just a sec...

"Is that the car?"

* * *

"Mary, what in God's name are you doing in my room? It's late!"

"Get dressed and meet Anna & I at the garage. Mama and Papa have just turned in so you must be quiet. They've had an hour and a half start ahead of us."

"Who?"

"Sybil and Branson."

"Why? What did they do?"

"THEY ELOPED!"

Well, that did it.

Oh, Lord. My baby sister and the chauffeur ran off? To Gretna Green?

Am I living in an Austen novel?

Sybil had been...aimless since the house went back to normal after the war ended. Like me, she would wander the house as if she was still doing her rounds. I'd still see her talking to the wounded men; dressing their wounds, making idle talk, helping write letters, ignoring the occasional cat-call.

One day, she told me she wanted to do so something drastic. That she didn't want to go back to life before the war, after living what she had lived through. She no longer wanted to "stand behind the guns".

She said I was much nicer now than before the war. Nicer, though not braver.

When she said "drastic", I thought she meant being a nurse full-time, or joining the circus, or going to university!

Not running off with the chauffeur!

Those driving lessons paid off, at least. I should thank Branson before I thump him once behind the head!

We took the old Model T. A clunky though solid machine. I wished we had something with more power. Mary seems to agree.

"Can't you make this thing go any faster?"

"This is as far as she goes! To be honest I don't know if I'm driving this thing or wearing it."

_Downshift, milady, downshift._ Another piece of useful advice from the man who stole our sister.

"Isn't that the car?"

The old Bearcat. I was ten when Papa first bought it. It's parked next to The Swan Inn. Mary and I are to retrieve Sybil while Anna stays behind to keep a lookout.

The inkeep said a couple checked in half-an-hour ago. Anne and Frederick Wentworth. I guess he is not the kind who reads.

We went up to the stairs to their room.

My sister and the chauffeur alone in a room. I felt a chill run down my spine. Probably Mary's, too.

Room 2-H. We found the door. I shuddered to think what we'll find in there. I must avert my eyes in case Sybil and Branson are in a _compromising _position.

She was on the bed. He was sitting on a chair.

How about that?

* * *

"What on earth were you thinking, Sybil?! Running off with the chauffeur?"

"Tom. His name is Tom."

"Papa and Mama will never approve! Do you have any idea what could have happened?"

"But nothing happened. Do you think we have not considered our actions?"

"If you did, you would not have run! You would have taken your case to our parents and make a stand, make a fight of it! Not sneak off while the house was asleep."

"What choice did we have? We've waited for so long..."

"_We_? So this wasn't a one-sided crush? You lied to me."

"No, I lied to myself. I love Tom. I've loved him for so long, and he loves me. It drives me crazy that it took me so long to make my decision!"

"And when you and _Tom_ have said your "I do's", what then? You come back here and make Papa give him a better job than chauffeur?"

"He's not like that! We were...we were leaving for Ireland."

"Ireland? Who do you know in Ireland?"

"Tom's family. His mother offered her home to us. She wrote him two days ago. She isn't exactly jumping for joy, but she accepts us. I hope Mama, Papa, Granny and you would do likewise."

"They will not see it that way! They will think you are marrying beneath you."

"He is not beneath me! And I am not above him. We are equals! That's what you will never understand about him. We see each other as people. He always tells me the truth no matter how unpleasant. He never coddles or condascends to me. Most of all, he _believes_ in me."

"Believes? What does he believe?"

"That I can be a nurse. Or even a doctor, if I wanted to."

"So this is why you ran? So you can chase your dreams, playing at being common."

This is not a game to me, Mary! This is my life. And I am deadly serious about it."

"I believe you. God help me but I believe you."

"Will you tell Papa, or should I?"

"Neither. I'll keep silent so long as you don't run off again."

"I promise."

"What's your plan now?"

"Tom's looking for a job. A proper job to support is both. Once he lines up one, I'll tell our parents myself."

"For your sake, I hope he gets one or you two just break things off. I don't like the idea of the chauffeur making eyes at you when we go on drives."

* * *

_I'm ready to travel, and you're my ticket._

Sybil's words still ring in my ear.

That had been the greatest moment in my life. It ought to be one be painted or written down in song.

And I failed.

I was just so tired. I was so excited that I had nary any sleep the night before.

She said YES! After four years of weighing the biggest decision of our lives, she said yes!

How could anyone sleep when they were as happy as I was?

We waited until the house had fallen asleep at eleven-thirty that night. She came to me with only the clothes on her back and one suitcase. I found out later at the inn that it contained just a week's change of clothes, grooming stuff and her nurse's uniform.

We took one last long look at the house. Her home, and mine, in a way. Then we drove off into the night.

"I LOOOOOVE YOOOOOU!", she shouted.

"I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOO!", I shouted back.

Nary five miles off and I was already fatigued. She insisted we stop somewhere to rest and maybe have a bite to eat.

The Swan Inn was nice and far off between villages. Sybil asked for a room and some food. Nothing too heavy. We didn't want to be too full in case we had to drive off in a hurry.

In between the cheese and the cold cuts, she asked:

"I want to know..."

"What do you want to know?"

"When you started to like me."

"When I saw you in your harem pants."

"Trouser skirt."

"Trouser skirt. I looked through the window when you showed it off to your family. I couldn't resist having a look. Anna said you looked _heavenly."_

"You peeped at me because you wanted to see Heaven?"

"Its not every day common men could catch a glimpse."

"And that was the day you thought _she will be mine_".

"No, that was the day I thought _I am hers."_

She held my hand. That beats my retort by a mile.

We went into our room and I insisted I sleep on the chair. I said I would only bed her as my wife.

"I believe you", she said. "And I will say the same even if they question us separately."

It was only when her sisters came that I realized how bad our plan was. We were to marry and then what? Come back and face her family's wrath? Leave the country in shame? For all my bluster, I'm a terrible planner. I am reminded of the time I tried to stage a protest when i thought I was to be drafted, and that time I tried to slop Gen. Strutt.

They are so childish. Sybil only deserves the best in life. That includes the man she will spend the rest of her life with. She needs a _man,_ not a boy who thinks he can.

Sybil came a day later. She said Mary, Edith and Anna have all sworn to keep silent about us, until we have truly made up our mind about what it is we want to do.

We know what we want. All we need is time to prepare for the last, longest and best phase of our lives

* * *

_To my family_

_I know it may come as a shock that you are reading this. I assure you am not being forced, nor am I being irrational in making this decision._

_You see, I am in love with Tom Branson. You know him as our chauffeur this last five years. To me, he is just Tom. The most wonderful man in the world who I want to spend the rest of my life with._

_He loves me and I love him as far as I can remember. I don't recall what life was like before him. He has so become integral in my life that to go on without him is just absurd._

_As you read this, we are traveling or have probably arrived over the border in Gretna Green. This elopement is completely my idea. I know it sounds like I cheated all of you but when you want to win against the house, you have to stack the deck a bit._

_We will be back in a few days, in which we hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive us our deceit._

_But know that I am not sorry for loving Tom. I will not let him go. I will not get a divorce. I will go with him if you turn him out of this house._

_Once we return and say what needs to be said, we will go to his home in Ireland where we will begin our new lives, as husband and wife._

_I know we are inviting scandal and gossip to the family name, but not to sound insensitive but you should not mind them. YOU know the truth and that's all that matters._

_We apologize that we dropped this huge piece of news when much much else is goingon, but I have known for years now that I have to find my own pleasures in life. And unfortunately I cannot find it in Downton, in the role of a Lady. I will marry Tom and be whatever I wish to be._

_Again, I am sorry for any heartbreak I have caused. Like it or no, when I return from Gretna Green I will no longer be Lady Sybil Crawley, but Mrs. Sybil Branson._

_Whichever name I choose, I am still and forever will be your loving_

_SYBIL_


	5. Dublin

_Pardon me if this chapter lacks emotional punch. I was just so drained from writing the final chapter._

_Hope you enjoy reading. And as always, PLEASE leave a review or two._

* * *

The sight was as my aunt Sarah said "something out of a Penny Dreadful".

It was a rainy night when he answered a hurried knocking on the main door.

"Mr. Branson?"

"Alfred, may I come in?"

He was like a wet rat. He wore an overcoat, suit, hat and desperation.

It was only later did I found out he got into some trouble in Ireland and he had to flee and leave Lady Sybil behind.

I wanted to thump the man for being a coward. And after I sympathized with him when I first met him! Its unbelievable that he left his pregnant wife behind like that, to be questioned and interrogated by police like a common criminal

I couldn't sleep that night. I swear I could hear him crying.

Lady Sybil arrived the next morning and I saw her and her husband embrace in the great hall.

I've never been more jealous. I'm not really sure any man is deserving of such devotion. If Mr. Branson was, then maybe he's not so bad. It was decided they will stay in Downton until their baby comes, then they'll find their own place.

Those next few weeks were some of the happiest I've seen them in. I've heard stories about the notorious Lady Sybil and her conniving ex-chauffeur of a husband. But he didn't strike me as the scheming type. He almost always was frowning except when she talks to him. His face lights up like Christmas. Me and the staff would catch the two of them in shall we say, unflattering positions. One morning, I saw them in the library sat together and whispering things to each other and snogging like a couple of school children. They were so happy together, it sometimes made one sick.

_Which is what made the end so unbearable.._.

* * *

"She's here! She's...She's right here! You can hear her, right? That's our baby. That's our baby crying. Here, look. I got to hold her before anyone else. See?"

"She's beautiful, Tom."

"This is our little baby."

"Hello, little one..."

"It's a girl! She's as healthy as can be!**"**

"I'm sorry we couldn't have her in Ireland, but at least we're all together...**"**

"You did a great job. I mean it.**"**

"I'm sorry, but I'm starting to feel a little tired...Could you let me rest...Just for a second...?"

"Wait, not yet...Come on, let's talk, just...just for a little bit. You don't have to say anything. Just listen. Come on, you have to look at our baby...She looks like a cute little monkey, doesn't she? See? She's so tiny... Here, I'm gonna call her. Hey, it's Daddy. This is Mommy, see? Look at her, see? She's ignoring me...Guess she doesn't understand yet... I bet she'll grow up before we know it. She'll be starting school. We'll have to go clothes shopping with her. We'll have open house and school festivals to go to. We'll do it all as a family. Even though...Even though I used to make fun of that stuff when I was growing up..."

_You told me you'd always be by my side...You said we'd always be together...You promised me that, remember?...Over and over again...We both promised...That was my only dream...Nothing good ever happened to me until I met you...I thought I had a crappy life...But even someone useless like me finally found something to live for...Right? R-Right?_

* * *

Tom held Sybil's hand in the darkness.

_We never should have met...__We should have just kept going down our separate paths...We never would have gotten married... Then...At least...I wouldn't have to go through so much suffering...__We never should have met... __Everything I did was wrong. Everything was a mistake. The fact that I met her, the fact that we fell in love, that we got married, the fact that we had a baby...It was all one big mistake I couldn't take back._

He felt his heart break under his chest.

Or did his heart murmur finally get the better of him?

Whatever it was, Tom Branson finally let go.


	6. Downton

_I have seen the beginning and the end of our story - and the tale is crude and ill-conceived._

_We must rewrite the ending of it, you and I._

* * *

Tom was in his chauffeur's livery again. It's the day of the garden party. The day the world fell apart.

But there were bright spots. Gwen got that secretarial job. He told Sybil about it and she was so happy that they dashed to Gwen to tell her the good news. They hugged each other like the best of friends.

And Sybil held his hand...

Yes, that day changed a lot of people's lives.

Mrs. Hughes arrived and she was told the good news and she ordered Gwen to go back to work at least until the end of the day.

She noticed the chauffeur holding the Lady's hand so she told some balderdash about her mother needing her assistance.

He just stood there as he had to let her go. His smile vanished as she got further away.

A fog had fallen. The world seemed to have lost its colour, its vibrancy.

"Be careful, my lad, or you'll end up with no job and a broken heart." The words had stuck with him all these years.

_If I talk to her we would fall in love. It would be better if I didn't say anything to her at this moment if I let her go then she would be..._

His chest got heavier. His hands balled up into fists so tight he would have broken his fingers.

_ I hate this town. It's too filled with memories I'd rather forget. There's no place I'd rather not go ever again. I wonder if anything will ever change? Will that day ever come?_

He stopped when her voice rang sweet in his ear.

_I have to say that I love it very, very much. But soon everything changes. Well, at least it does eventually. Fun things...Happy things...They'll all...They'll all eventually change some day, you know? But can you still love this place?_

_No. Not without you. __When you're not around, I...hurt. I __don't feel like fighting. I feel like giving up. All I can think about is how weak and pathetic I am. _PLEASE, for once let me be strong.

___Being strong and being numb are not the same thing. _It's time to take a well-deserved break. It's alright to come home now. I'll be right here waiting. There's no reason to suffer anymore.

You know the cliche about your life flashing before your eyes? Its partly true. What Tom saw wasn't his own life, but _theirs_; his and Sybil's.

Their first drive together, him sneaking a peek through the window at Sybil and her harem pants (and that cheeky wink she gave him!), carrying her from The Count, the garden party, when he proposed, when she said yes, when they stood together as man and woman against Lord Grantham, and as husband and wife before a priest.

The day she said they were to be parents. The night he held her hand as she slipped away from him...

It all came back.

Tom's life didnt truly begin until he arrived at Downton Abbey.

A gasp escaped his breath. He finally understood what needed to be done.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hughes, I can't. I just can't." He ran.

"Sybil! Sybil! Where are you?" _I will never forgive myself if I lose her again._

She was just a few paces from him. Right in the middle of the grounds, surrounded by all those tents. All those people.

"Sybil!"

She didn't hear.

"SYBIL!" He roared. His voice had almost gone hoarse.

She turned and faced him. "Tom?"

He threw his hat away and crashed into her with the tightest hug he can give, almost taking her out of her shoes!

"Sybil! I'm right here! Please don't leave me! Please don't leave..."

The fog lifted. Everything had colour again.

Her hands stroked his arms. "You had me worried. For a second there, I was afraid you wouldn't talk to me."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The sobs made him tremble. He hugged her closer.

"At first, you didn't say anything. I was starting to think you'd keep walking away, like you wish we never met in the first place. I hope that wasn't true though. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me so happy."

"Sybil..." She put her hand on his cheek, like she did a lifetime ago. Her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes which always looked at him with love, admiration and pride even when he felt undeserving, never left his.

"I don't want you to be lost or afraid or anything like that. I know things might be too hard sometimes, but no matter what, please don't ever regret the time we spent together." Tears welled up in her eyes too.

"I won't regret a thing. I promise" After all their intimate acts of love, all Tom Branson could do was kiss Mrs. Sybil Branson's hands. "Thank you."

* * *

Tom still clutched Sybil's hand. It was half-past six of the following morning. A baby's cry woke him.

_"_Sybil? Sybil?"_ It had been a dream. A beautiful dream that was too good to be true. _The tears fell again.

He felt something. Sybil's thumb was _moving. _She opened her eyes_. "Tom?"_

"Sybil!"

She slowly sat up on the bed. Her body was still smarting from her ordeal. "Is something wrong, Tom? You look upset."

"Not anymore". The joy in his heart was so great he thought an attack might come. "We're really together now right?"

"Of course we are, darling, we'll always be together. Just like we promised over and over again, I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed her. "That's right, just like we said". Sybil was still sweaty from a whole night of labor and her hair was poofy from the humidity. He didn't care. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and he'll thank God for her till the day he dies. "Oh, my God. I love you so much."

"Oh, good. You're both awake."

"Ma'm?" Tom was stunned. What was his mother doing in Downton? He took another look around. There were no paintings on the wall. No sculptures on their mantle. No rich carpets on the floor. They were in their simple tidy Dublin flat. They never left Ireland.

"You were both tuckered out so I took my granddaughter here and gave her her first bath."

They had a daughter. A beautiful girl with his light blonde hair.

"Here now", Tom's mother said as she handed them the little bundle she carried. "Gently. She's brand new but healthy as can be."

Sybil held their child and she and Tom cooed over the little darling.

"I'll leave you three alone. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Branson." She left.

"When she gets bigger, I hope she's as strong as she is now." Said Sybil.

"She will be. She'll have a strong mind and strong body, too. Don't worry."

"Tom, what shall we name her?"

"Sybil." Tom said without any hesitation.

"My name? Why?"

"I can't think of a better name for a finer woman." With smiles on their faces, Tom and Sybil continued touching and cooing and speaking of their plans for their little one, that perfect combination of their best and worst qualities.

_I've found it. I finally found it. Something only I can protect. A precious treasure only I can protect. It was right here. Right in front of me...all along..._


End file.
